Gemma: A Mafia Forbidden Romance

He gets into the driver side, and starts the engine. He drives the big ass truck effortlessly onto the road.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask.

I glance over at his profile, taking in his messy hair and scruffy beard. I should be terrified of him. His brother, the asshole back at the pub, kidnapped my best friend last year and roughed her up with a baseball bat. His family and mine have hated each other for longer than I’ve been alive. This man could easily kill me and dump my body somewhere never to be found again.

But I’m not scared of him.

Call me stupid, dumb, or naive.

Liam O’Connor is giving me a lot of feelings, but fear is not one of them.

“Home.” He says, avoiding looking at me in his passenger seat.

“To my home?”

He shoots me a look. “Yeah, Princess.”

I flinch at the nickname.

Princess insinuates that I’m some kind of royalty, that I live in a gilded cage with my every need taken care of.

I’m no princess.

“Take me to the Providence train station, you can’t take me home.”

He huffs a laugh, the sound is deep and throaty. “I’m taking you home so your father can see how fucking stupid you are, being dropped off by me. So you can explain to him what his little girl has been up to tonight.” The words come out harsh, he’s trying to hurt me, trying to get under my skin.

“Do you have a death wish?” I shoot his words back at him, filled with venom. “Because if you take me to my house I guarantee my brothers will be waiting there and they will shoot you before you even open your mouth to give an explanation. I will not be the one embarrassed tonight.”

He turns his face to give me a sharp look, his blue-grey eyes are piercing.

“I’ll take you to the train station.”

I lean back into my seat, savoring my victory. Thank God. I’m already going to be in deep shit when I get home, the last thing I need to do is add sleeping with the enemy to my rap sheet.

It’s an hour drive from Boston to Providence, so I have plenty of time to admire his profile and take in his brooding. I’m sure he’s thrilled to be driving two hours on a Friday night for my sorry ass.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. I’m not sure why I feel the need to apologize to him. I don’t owe Liam anything and I surely didn’t ask him to drag me out of his bar tonight. Then again, I was in Boston when I shouldn’t have been. He could have easily made my life hell, or worse. Instead he kept his brother from hurting me and now he’s driving me home.

Somehow his eyes find mine in the dark truck. “For what?”

“Ruining your night. You know, I really didn’t know it was your pub. I wouldn’t have gone in if I did.”

“Why were you in Boston at all?”

I overthink the question, not sure what answer I want to give him. Honestly, I had no reason to be there, gallery show or not. I co

uld have found something to do in Providence if I wanted to.

The truth is, I’m fucking lonely and depressed. I’ve always been one for bad ideas. Always been reckless. Normally I have someone to join me or talk me out of the stupid idea.

“My best friend moved to New York last year, she got married, so…” I pause, I don’t know why I’m telling him this, “I’m bored.” I shrug.

He barks out a laugh, the sound is rough and fills the truck with its loud noise. “You’re bored? So you take the train an hour to Boston, somewhere you shouldn’t fucking be? Are you a masochist, Gemma?” His mouth is twisted into a smile when he asks the question.

I grimace. “I—” I don’t know how to respond to him. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

He hums a sound of interest. “You wanted to feel something.”